


make me a bird, i'll fly with you

by andrieski



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, The Braven Coffee Shop AU no one asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 12:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11783064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrieski/pseuds/andrieski
Summary: “If I ever had to choose a superpower, I’d choose the ability to fly,” she says. Her face brightens, like the very thought of it lifts her up.“Interesting choice, sky girl.”[braven coffee shop au]





	make me a bird, i'll fly with you

 

He's reading Murakami behind the counter when the bell rings.

It's 4:15 pm. Jasper makes that strangled noise in the back of his throat that foretells disaster. Begrudgingly, Bellamy looks up.

The first one to walk into the shop is Clarke Griffin, with her blonde hair, blue eyes, and a practised angelic smile plastered across her face, that – quite obviously – hides a very persistent desire to _kill_.

This is bad.

Behind her trails her boy-toy – Finn, The Pacifist – self-righteous and a basic pain in the ass, if Bellamy is the one to judge – with a girl clinging to his side. With her fingers intertwined with his, and a dumbstruck, enamoured expression on her face. Finn's smile is too wide, eyes watery and – could it be? – panicked. Clarke continues to look like she wants to very politely murder someone.

4:17. They reach the counter.

Bellamy tries not to roll his eyes into the back of his head.

 

-

 

They sit at the very back, and it feels like the whole coffee shop is holding its breath, trying to look inconspicuous, while at the same time hanging onto every word that's said at that table. College kids, Bellamy muses, are really fucking hopeless.

The bell above the door pings again and a very hyper Monty approaches.

“Guys,” he says, in a strained, mildly horrified voice, “this is sick.”

Jasper waves his hands at him. Bellamy just sighs. “We know you're going to tell us _everything_ anyway, so why don't you just skip the dramatic intro and get on with it?”

“See that girl next to Finn?” He nods in the general direction of the back of the room. “That's Raven. His girlfriend of, like, six years or something.”

They go quiet for a moment, processing the information. Jasper blinks owlishly. “Isn't he dating Clarke, though?”

“Yeah,” Monty says, “that's what you, me, and the entire student body had thought for the past year.”

Bellamy shakes his head gravely. “That's _awful_.”

“Hey, show some respect for the college drama, Blake,” Monty scolds, jabbing him in the chest with a little plastic fork. “The really tragic thing is, the girl's got no idea what's going on around here. Like, none. Just look at them. She transferred from Berkeley, so they could be together. Berkeley! She's like, a science genius or something. And of course Finn didn't know shit about her plans, and Clarke didn't even know about the girlfriend part – it's so messed up.”

Another silence follows, while the three of them look at the miserable picture the Clarke-Finn-science girl present.

Jasper sighs. “I wish I had my camera with me.”

 

-

 

Clarke advances on Monty, her expression screaming murder.

“If you say a word to him, I'm going to break that little bone in your hand that allows you to play video games and do science, and I will disable it forever. You know I can.”

“Ouch,” Monty gasps, curling into himself. “I've always admired your – uhm, humane and rational approach to things – ”

Bellamy chooses that moment to turn away from the espresso machine. “Hello, princess,” he says, his lips curling up into a smirk, “came to tell us all about your exciting love life?”

She looks at Monty as if he's the lowest kind of insect. “You've already told him, haven't you.”

Monty shrugs from behind Jasper.

“You know, I'm impressed,” Bellamy says, “I'd never have thought you had it in you for a _couple_.”

“I didn't know!” She drags her hand through her hair in exasperation. “He never mentioned her, not even once –”

“But,” Bellamy continues unperturbed, “a threesome's really great. I can give you guys some tips if you want, but seriously – don't worry – it's gonna be fine. Just go with the flow.”

Clarke opens her mouth then shuts it with a snap. Tries again. “Oh my God, I hate you so much.”

Bellamy's smile is almost beatific.

 

-

 

The mood shifts, like it's been bound to. The constant whispering and heavy-handed gossip have that effect on the toughest of people.

The science girl's enthusiasm wanes, and keeps waning until there's nothing left. Her smiles grow stretched and fake. She tightens her hold on Finn's hand every time Clarke comes closer, and turns her head away, as if not seeing Finn's longing looks would make them go away.

Somehow watching that makes Bellamy irrationally angry. (It's the utter idiocy of the situation, he decides. Finn's a hopeless amateur. If treated with finesse and a little bit of intelligence, this relationship would have worked perfectly. Bellamy wasn't lying to Clarke the other day. Threesomes _can_ be awesome.)

And what makes it worse, Clarke keeps trying to make friends with her. As if the hostility between them weren't almost tangible.

“It's like watching a train wreck,” Jasper says, while pumping almond syrup into some girl's latte cup, “you don't want to stare, but you just can't look away.”

 

-

 

Bellamy's out on a smoke break in front of the shop when he hears it. It's all the two art students in flowery dresses seem to be able to talk about, while smoking their thin raspberry cigarettes and sipping coffee from paper cups.

“And it was so sad, you know,” one of them says, “she gave him back that necklace he'd made for her – it was kind of cliché, but touching at the same time – and he didn't even try to stop her, fucking asshole – ”

The trees on campus are turning yellow. Some of the leaves have already fallen.

 

-

 

He’s not a gossip kind of person, he swears, but it’s hard to remain completely oblivious when working as a barista in a campus coffee shop. But hey, no job is beneath you et cetera; one has to make ends meet somehow while spending their nights writing.

She walks into the shop with a gust of cold air, cheeks flushed from the wind and wisps of dark hair escaping her ponytail. Bellamy wonders if the chatter about her and that asshole she used to call a boyfriend died down. Also wonders why the hell he cares.

“What can I do for you?”

She sighs, like a life-weary woman of 80. “You could teleport me into another dimension. But an americano would do too.”

“Trust me, I wish I had that sort of power. I fantasize about it _daily_. Though the americano part can be done, at least.”

“Thanks,” she says. Her dark eyes follow his movements as he prepares the coffee, and the hairs at the nape of his neck stand on end.

“Actually, most people would say they prefer the power of, I don’t know, mind reading,” he says as he waits for the cup to fill.

“Oh, come on.” He turns to her, just in time to see her roll her eyes. “Like I’d need to know what they think. Most of them manage to voice their thoughts quite loudly as it is.”

Bellamy nods, his fingers burning from the coffee he holds out to her.

“If I ever had to choose a superpower, I’d choose the ability to fly,” she says. Her face brightens, like the very thought of it lifts her up.

“Interesting choice, sky girl.”

She pulls a crumpled bill out of her pocket and hands it to him. Their fingers brush, cold skin against warm, sending shivers down his arm. “It’s Raven, actually,” she says.

He smiles. “Suits you.”

_Did he really fucking say that out loud?_

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> there's gonna be more i promise


End file.
